[_The Hospital for Sick Children in Great Ormond Street, where many Belgian children are now being cared for, is in very urgent need of funds to enable it to maintain its beneficent work. The Treasurer will gladly receive and acknowledge any subscriptions that may be sent._] O generous hearts that freely give, Nor heed the lessening of your store, So but our well-loved land may live, Much have you given--give once more! For little children spent with toil, For little children worn with pain, I ask a gift of healing oil-- Say, shall I ask for it in vain? For, since our days are filled with woe, And all the paths are dark and chill, This thought may cheer us as we go, And bring us light and comfort still; This, this may stay our faltering feet, And this our mournful minds beguile:-- We helped some little heart to beat And taught some little face to smile. R. C. L. * * * * * "MONITORS AT WORK OFF KNOCKE," says _The Daily Mail_, and by way of reply the Germans knocked off work. * * * * * THE PATRIOT. This is a true story. Unless you promise to believe me, it is not much good my going on.... You promise? Very well. Years ago I bought a pianola. I went into the shop to buy a gramophone record, and I came out with a pianola--so golden-tongued was the manager. You would think that one could then retire into private life for a little, but it is only the beginning. There is the music-stool to be purchased, the library subscription, the tuner's fee (four visits a year, if you please), the cabinet for the rolls, the man to oil the pedals, the----however, one gets out of the shop at last. Nor do I regret my venture. It is common talk that my pianola was the chief thing about me which attracted Celia. "I _must_ marry a man with a pianola," she said ... and there was I ... and here, in fact, we are. My blessings, then, on the golden tongue of the manager.